


Lost City

by BlitSnax



Category: Myth & Reason
Genre: Exploration, Fantasy, Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:27:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23093308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlitSnax/pseuds/BlitSnax
Summary: A young scholar finds more than he ever hoped when he sets out to find a lost city.
Kudos: 1





	Lost City

**Author's Note:**

> A work inspired by a conversation about a friend's campaign setting.
> 
> I welcome feedback. Enjoy!

Secundus, Opis, Povis, 44 AU

  
  


That’s it then, the last few grains of sand are running out the glass. I have never really thought about death, but had I done so I wouldn’t have expected such a calm certintay. Somehow I know, deep within me, that when Luna passes overhead tonight he will collect my soul. And so I am using the last of my oil to write this, as a record for all who may read it.

  
  


It is strange to think of Luna the God, rather than a celestial object no different from a boulder in a stream, as the Church teaches us. My eyes have been opened, only for the light to fade from them. The Church is wrong, how wrong I cannot say, but man is not the greatest power that walks, not even close. And after all I’ve seen I am fully ready to believe in the old Gods once more, and when Luna takes me this night I shall ask for his mercy, not knowing if he even possesses it. I write this not to convince you, for I would not believe had I not witnessed it myself, but to clear my conscience. I tried to warn you, remember that.

My name is Marius Pollonius and I am, was, a scholar. Three moons ago I joined an expedition to the depths of the Great Forest, eager with youth and wonder. This was my chance to discover truths about the universe that would set my name in the stones of the great halls of Scolaris itself. Our patron, who’s name is lost to the trees and shall not be uttered again, was out for glory. Seeking to find a lost city and claim it for her house so as to raise them as a new power. Along with the score of labours and servants our group consisted of myself and another student of knowledge, although his specialty was in medicine not anthropology, a half dozen bonds-men trained in the art of the sword, a pair of priests, and a single Welden, or so it was claimed. A League member hired by our noble leader this hulking brute never removed it’s dirty white furs despite the heat, and acted as our principle scout, ranging ahead of the main group each day to find a suitable camp.

Of course, I never expected to find a city, but perhaps there might be ruins of a lost proto-culture. A history before ours which would cement Nembria’s right as the first, and greatest, people. A dozen weeks we walked, horses being unsuitable for such uneven terrain, my fellow found many new herbs and plants, and we spent nights speculating on their potential uses. Then, almost without warning the forested land gave way to a vast clearing, an almost perfectly circular valley with high sided walls, akin to the marks left by water dropping onto sand. What could have caused such a formation is beyond my ken, perhaps an impact from some unimaginable object. But the valley itself was nothing compared to what it contained. Nestled in the center of this pit, squatting at the convergence of what were obviously the remains of roads was a building. Squatt and broad with lines so impossibly crisp and sharp they hurt the eyes to look at, it was evidently not human. The top of this monolith rose and fell in square regularity, giving it the appearance of a crowns board in three dimensions. Sat as it was in the mammoth valley we couldn’t rightly gauge it’s size, not with the light scintillating from the roof protrusions, so we spent the next day lowering ourselves into the valley floor via a narrow switchback path and camped at the west face of the edifice. The only side aspect with visible markings. Etches in the stone could well have indicated a door, but it was a full man length across and two high, far too large for anything but the giants of folklore.

The next three days were spent exploring the environs of the building, a league it measured on all sides, the stone was without mar or mark save the door facing our camp, untouched by the ravages of time. Constructing a ladder to reach the roof required a dozen dozen rungs, raising us over an actus in height. Walking among the undulating stones reminded me of crossing old forts, their ramparts reclaimed by nature. It was with this thought that my first troubling revelation hit me, this was a city. The raised areas were buildings, the lowered ones streets. An entire city, encased in a shell, it’s floorplan transposed to the roof or us to see. A city made by minds far greater than our own, minds entirely unkowable.

  
  


The oil is starting to fade, the shadows are lengthening and my thoughts are drifting with the smoke, but you must understand. We didn’t know what awaited us inside that vault of madness, I’m still not sure I do.

  
  


The door remained barred to us, but with my revelation our patron was insistent we enter. So, at its base we piled barrels of black powder and gave that portal of unknown rock an almighty knock. The smoke cleared and no mark had been left upon the surface, despite the turned up earth and charred grass at its base. Then, as if guided by some unseen hand, the slab rose, revealing a dark passageway into the unknown, and in those inky depths, just on the edge of vision we saw a faint purple light. Into this dungeon we trekked, the priests leading the way, followed by the mistress with two of her swords, and myself bringing up the rear. The light from our torches didn’t reach the ceilings of this place, and it became all too easy to imagine we were wandering under a starless sky in the dead of night. The walls were featureless save for the groupings of dots and lines that accompanied every doorway or side street branching off from the central avenue on which we walked. The purple light was coming from directly ahead, from an area we believed to be a large central chamber. Upon entering we were faced with a twin horror that I believe would have haunted my dreams for the rest of my days, had I had any left. The light, sickly and cloying now it surrounded us, was coming from a vast glass tube in the center of the room, in it was a luminescent liquid holding in suspension what can best be described as a blind person's idea of a man. Arms reaching the same point as the legs but thick and unjointed. An overly large head, impossibly supported by a twig like neck. A mouth containing far too many sharp and pointed teeth. And eyes a solid, unending black. Before this monstrosity, towering over us, was a childs toy brought to life. A square body of clay supported by tree trunk like legs with short arms protruding straight out from the top of corners of the sides before bending at the elbows, topped with a head resting on the shoulders with no sign of neck. It’s expressionless face turned towards us, a hand rose and a finger pointed. One priest found his skeleton ripped clean from his body, his fellow unmanned herself, mixing effluent with the blood pooling on the floor. The bonds-men drew their weapons and charged, even as I turned and fled. I know not their fate but no sounds of combat followed me down those dark passages, only screams, and worse.

My headlong flight into the light must have conveyed my panic because the remaining soldiers drew themselves into a battle line between the door and the camp. Before I had regained my breath or composure the beast strode from the darkness carrying a small, intricately carved box in its giant hands. One swipe of the free arm knocked the men to one side then the box glowed and the land below the camp proceeded to erupt in a cacophony of blasts. Not knowing where to run I darted back into the building, at this point my mind had well and truly snapped because when I looked back I saw this golem grappling a white wolf. Larger than any I’d seen it could easily have brought down a oxen by itself, but even this force of nature was dwarfed by the alien being we’d awoken. Convinced I had already died and was stuck in some hellscape I heedlessly ran through the enclosed city. In the darkness every sound was amplified and the screams the shouts followed me. I am unsure whether they were real or imagined but none the less they drove me every forward. Taking turns at random and crashing into many an unknown object, I finally entered a room full of strange devices, familier in shape but unknown in purpose. Chief among these was a large circle, filling the room with a stark white light. Through this circle I could see sky, clouds and the sun and so I leaped.

  
  


And that dear reader is how I ended up in this frozen tundra, cold, without food or water, doomed to death. I walked for a while but the futility was readily apparent, so here I am, writing this, waiting for the long night to finally come.

I don’t know what I saw in that forest, but I know it was old, older than anything I’ve ever seen. It was powerful and intelligent, and it did not care for the intrusion into it’s realm. It wasn’t a god, but it may well have been close. So, heed the last words of a dying man..

If you see anything you cannot explain..

  
  


RUN!!!

  
  


-Transcription of a parchment found on a frozen Nembrian by a League team exploring trade routes north of Bukhar migratory patterns, 64 AU

  
  
  



End file.
